Page 14 of Cold Heir

If the empress had beenhere,when she was believed to be elsewhere, what other secrets was she keeping?

Chapter Five

Corina

After seeing to it that I had a full stomach and a hot bath, Glenn was practically my new best friend.

I changed into the oversized, plaid shirt that came down to my knees, and towel-dried my hair while Levi showered. Glenn powered down his generator after the hot-water tank filled, and the house was now swathed in the warm glow of candlelight.

It was quiet aside from the sound of running water, leaving me to wonder if Glenn had gone to bed and left us to our own devices for the night. I was on my best behavior for about five minutes before curiosity got the best of me. Taking slow, quiet steps, I moved to the door of the bedroom Levi and I would share, peering out into the hallway. A single candle resting on a stand at the end of the narrow passage lit the frame of an open doorway.

Inside? Books.

Tons of them.

We stopped in briefly on Glenn’s house tour before we settled in for the evening. I hadn’t gotten close enough to read any of the titles, but it was so rare to see such a large collection outside a guarded library, so … I couldn’t help myself.

Pausing to listen, I stepped out and ventured toward the room that had called to me since I first laid eyes on it. On my way in, I swiped a candle, raising it for a better look once I reached my destination. There were even more than I first realized, stacks that nearly reached the ceiling, cases filled to the brim. Even the tables were covered, holding some with swatches of paper sticking out the side—a clear sign that Glenn didn’t just have them for show. These had seemingly been put to good use over the years.

My fingers trailed the spines as I took a breath, inhaling their one-of-a-kind scent. Nothing else in the world carried that aroma. I focused on the titles—pieces that documented the war that resulted in humanity’s fall, even a few first edition sonnets from Levi’s quadrant.

And then I spotted it, something that made me stop cold in my tracks.

Red Prose.

My brow twitched a bit as I reread the title about ten times, wondering how or why a relative of the monarchy came to own it, a banned book. One that painted Ianites in such a terrible light at that. I couldn’t remember what year it had been pulled from circulation, but I was certain it was on the list. It was a collection of cautionary, children’s folksongs, all a means of warning youths of the dangers of crossing an Ianite’s path, or breaking their stringent rules.

Glancing a few titles to the left, I spotted another that wasn’t allowed. With there being so many, I could only guess this small sample was representative of the entire collection.

How many of these illegal books did he own?

They were considered contraband, and the consequence for having them in one’s possession was harsh—the removal of both eyes. If the person was caught owning more than a dozen, a hand was hacked off as well.

Remembering the punishment, I pulled my hand away and just stared from a distance.

“Find anything good?”

I gasped when Glenn entered, his gaze locked on the section of books before me. Maybe he knew what I’d seen, knew I was aware they weren’t allowed.

“Sorry I wandered in. I was just admiring your library. Your selection is rather extensive.” I prayed that sounded more complimentary than accusatory.

Glenn nodded as he stepped inside too. “I’ve been hoarding books nearly all my life,” he smiled. “As you can see, I’ve run out of space to house most of them.”

“How did you acquire them all?”

It felt especially cruel to hope his alleged feeblemindedness would cause him to divulge more than he ought to, but I did. I hoped he’d spillallhis secrets.

He eyed me for a moment, and I wondered if he’d seen through me.

“Some were gifts, several were imported,” he shared. “But at any rate, I’m sure you don’t want to talk about this.”

“Actually, I’m intrigued.”

The statement seemed to catch him off guard. Perhaps it was simply that he wasn’t used to others putting much stock in the things he said. Or perhaps it was something else. I’d been told there was a hunger behind my eyes—a thirst for deeper understanding—that I didn’t hide well. Maybe that look had betrayed me again tonight.

“Have an interest in old books?” he asked curiously.

I nodded. “Something like that. More so the ones people fought to have practically erased from existence.”

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